If Only You Had Loved Me
by Mavennica
Summary: Something is wrong with Hermione. Can Severus save her before it's too late? Post-Graduation, Non-DH compliant, adult themes, dark(ish)
1. Chapter 1

Everyone had moved on, it seemed; everyone but her.

Oh, she graduated with top honors, the head of her year, but it was an empty recognition. She completed her assignments and aced her exams, but it was all meaningless to her. Everything was meaningless.

Well, almost everything.

One thing, one person, wasn't meaningless. One person never babied her, never let her carry on, and never demanded she give one iota less than her absolute best.

Her seething hatred for how her Potions professor treated her was the only meaning she had in her life.

She was a listless automaton, performing her daily routine with less thought than a flobberworm, until Potions. Her professor would bully her, tease her, or push other assorted buttons until he got some sort of reaction.

It never rankled him that she hated him with the fire of a thousand hells; it only mattered that she responded. Even though she was not of his House, she was still a student under his care, and her continued apathy worried him. She was a powerful witch, and her apathy rotting away to darkness would bode ill for the wizarding world. It was the only way he knew to keep her afloat.

He had no idea what it was to be the object of someone's unrequited love; he only knew how to be the unrequited lover. He had no clue that his own experience, which gave him clarity of vision to do what had to be done, had blinded him to what was right in front of his eyes.

After the graduation ceremony was over and all the students gone for the summer, he settled into the chair behind his desk and reveled in the silence.

His peace was broken by a huge ball of orange fluff that leaped upon his desk. The creature skidded on the smooth surface and would have fallen to the floor had the Potions Master not caught the beast in his lap. The ginger cat raised his head and stared intently at the human holding him, golden eyes piercing onyx ones.

_Here, this is for you. _

A neatly-folded parchment dropped into his hands, and for no reason he could identify, his stomach clenched in dread. He opened the parchment and began to read.

_My Dearest Severus:_

_Harry showed me your memories. I know now that I never stood a chance with you; I could never be Her. I never understood before why you hated me so for loving you, but now I do, for I hate Lily with just such a passion. I am free to admit that now, because had I said it before you would have killed me for blasphemy. It doesn't matter anymore._

_Crookshanks is yours now. A familiar follows his mistress's heart, and mine belonged to you; the fact that you didn't want it is irrelevant. _

_May you find peace, Severus; I finally have._

_Hermione Granger,_

_Insufferable Know-It-All_

A second piece of parchment was folded in with the letter.

_I would have born your life for you_

_If only you'd planted the seed._

_I would have given my life for you_

_If ever you had the need._

_I would have struck the dagger down_

_Into my waiting chest._

_I would have cradled your weeping head_

_Upon my lifeless breast._

_I would have given you Heaven above_

_Where lilies grow wild and free._

_I would have given you all these things,_

_If only you had loved me._

He couldn't move. His eyes were wide and staring, and his black irises scanned the poem over and over, not quite believing what they read.

He was interrupted by a rude swipe of a velvet paw and irritated golden eyes blocking his vision. _Wake up, stupid man! She's still on the Tower! Go get my witch back! I don't want you for a human!_

He stood up quickly, dumping the half-cat to the floor in the process; the beast burbled his displeasure. With a quick _Vestiti*_ he was dressed and out the door, his nearly-inherited familiar hot on his heels.

At the Tower, a resigned exhalation was the only clue that she had just jumped. He leaped after her, his cloak billowing out into the darkness, and he caught her just before she landed.

He lowered them the final inches to the ground, catching his breath in the process. He checked her vitals, his hands gentle and sure. She was unconscious, but she was alive, which wasn't what she had intended. He didn't know if she would appreciate his chivalry, but he would be damned if he was going to have one more death on his conscience, especially one off of this accursed tower.

He carried her to Poppy, not wanted to admit to himself that he preferred feeling her heartbeat as opposed to simply floating her along. She stirred once on the short journey, and he crooned her back to sleep using a songspell that was ancient when his mother taught it to him.

*_Vestiti: _ Latin for "clothed."


	2. Chapter 2

A soft white blanket lay over her, and she was in an infirmary gown. Her eyes opened by degrees, not wanting to admit to themselves that they looked upon the living world; they had hoped for the merciful blackness that descended when their owner shuttered them for the night.

Her ears, equally resentful of their living status, perceived a soft chiming noise.

"She's awake, Severus."

The dark man scowled. "I know that, Poppy. I _am_ able discern the sound of a monitoring charm."

"Oh shove off, boy. Make yourself moderately useful and hand me that stack of towels on the left. No, MY left…those are the sheets, I need the towels…I said a stack, not just one...Good heavens, Severus, how do you find your rooms at night?"

"Piss off, Poppy. You're lucky I'm here at all."

The older woman chuckled ruefully as she arranged the towels around a basin of cool water. "That's how I always knew you were fully recovered from a bad night, Severus. 'Piss off, Poppy,'" she imitated with amazing accuracy.

Her smile faded, and she shook her head sadly. "I'm so sorry you had to endure that, Severus." She wiped her eyes and tried to collect herself. "My tirades burned Albus's ears off more than once for treating you so poorly."

His dark eyes softened. "I know, Poppy. I know."

She took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh, blowing wisps of gray hair away from her eyes. "Well, that's enough of that; time to tend to our patient here."

"Please don't."

Poppy patted her arm softly. "There, there, Miss Granger. We'll have you right as rain in no time."

"No you won't," Hermione whispered, her eyes desolate and sad. "No one will."

"Rubbish," Snape snorted, falling back on what had worked so often to bring her out of her apathy. "You're nearly the most intelligent witch who ever lived but apparently not the smartest to die." He leaned forward and glared her in the eye. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Severus!" Poppy gasped.

Never losing eye contact with Hermione, he held up a hand and stopped the older woman. "I know what I'm doing."

Hermione's face pulled back in a sneer that was eerily similar to his own. "Did you say those words before or after you stupidly let Voldemort burn your arm?" She sat up and leaned sideways, her nose nearly touching her Potions professor's. "Or was it after you stood helpless in your classroom, at a loss for what on Earth you were doing there instead of in a grave with Lily?" Hermione threw herself violently back onto the bed, clutching the left side of her chest. She curled herself in a ball facing away from the other two in the room and sobbed, chanting, "Please make it stop, please make it stop, it hurts…"

Poppy clucked at her young charge and spelled her back to sleep. Hermione relaxed onto her back, her breathing deep and peaceful. After Poppy was satisfied that she wouldn't wake up anytime soon, she turned back to the Potions Master and scowled. "Why are you so cruel to that child?"

He sat back and sighed, scratching the back of his neck in thought. "It's the only thing she responds to. You should have seen it, Poppy. She was fine until the night Potter, Albus, and the Dark Lord fell; after that it was like I was looking at a mirror whenever I saw her." His hands dropped to his lap. "Apathetic, hopeless, withdrawn, and cruel." Peering up through his hair, he nearly whispered, "Who does that remind you of?"

A basin full of cool water appeared, summoned by the Mediwitch. She sat on the opposite side of the bed and gently began wiping Hermione's tear-stained face with a soft cloth. "If I overheard anyone using those particular words, I would assume they were speaking of you."

The dark wizard made a face. "Exactly. When I saw Miss Granger going down the same road, I had to stop her."

Poppy dipped her cloth into the basin and wrung it out, shaking off the excess water. "I didn't realize you cared so much for her," she spoke quietly.

He waited a moment, gathering his thoughts. "That's the strange thing, Poppy. I never cared for her before; I never cared for anyone but Lily, really." He took a deep breath and swallowed.

"Go on, boy, I'm listening."

Hermione's eyes snapped open. She took a deep breath and swallowed. "There's not much more to tell, Poppy," she said, her voice deepened with a masculine tone. "Albus said the ritual would have a few side effects but that it would be fine after it was reversed." She made a face, looking for all the world like Severus Snape was manipulating her features. "Fucking bastard. He never told me himself how to reverse it, so the Know-It-All and I are both well and truly buggered." Hermione cried out, her head flying back as her features went completely blank.

After a moment Hermione took a deep breath and locked eyes with her Potions professor. "Kill me, sir. Please. I'm begging you." Her normal voice once again passed through quivering lips. "Make it stop."

Severus folded his arms and leaned forward. "Now, see here, Miss Granger. Where is that brave Gryffindor heart for which your ilk is so famous?"

Hermione shakily reached out and gently touched his chest. "You have it." She was trying to say more when a vicious grand mal seizure overtook her.

Reacting quickly, Poppy pulled out her want and uttered, _"Petrificus Epilepticus."*_ She watched as the unconscious girl's breathing evened out.

"A seizure of that magnitude only occurs amongst magical folk when the victim has pushed the edges of a Vow." Poppy maneuvered Hermione to a more comfortable position and covered her with the white blanket. "What did she mean about you having her heart, Severus? Is she in love with you?"

Severus looked thoughtful. "Perhaps; perhaps not." He looked down between his feet where Crookshanks slept. "I suspect something far more nefarious than love is at work here, or at least was in the recent past."

The Mediwitch stood up and stretched, twisting to crack her back and neck. "Alright, I'll bite. What's more nefarious than love?"

Severus reached down and rubbed a furry ear. "Albus Dumbledore."

_*Petrificus Totalis_ stops or freezes the whole body, so it made sense to me that there would be more specific versions of the _Petrificus_ spell. The first word is the type of spell, and the second word is the object of the spell's effects, so _Petrificus Epilepticus_ would stop or freeze a seizure.


	3. Chapter 3

Leaving Hermione in Poppy's care, Severus stormed up to the Headmistress's office, Crookshanks trotting behind him. Severus tried more than once to shoo the annoying beast away, but the young witch's familiar would have none of it; he simply followed the dark wizard as he pleased, sometimes jumping ahead and looking back at Severus with bored annoyance.

The dark wizard stopped short. "Will you quit following me?"

Ears folded back, Crookshanks looked into Severus's eyes and replied in his mind, iWomen and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea./i

Severus snarled, "Heinlein? Your witch has esoteric taste in Muggle literature."

Crookshanks flicked his tail in annoyance. iWhoever said my witch was the one who read it?/i

Looking up in pained annoyance, Severus replied, "I will not stand here and discuss the idiotic notion of cats reading books." He resumed storming down the hall. "Follow me if you wish," he called out, "but if you take to winding 'round my feet, I'll not be responsible for the ensuing kink in your tail." He smirked when Crookshanks growled.

After winding his way through the halls, Severus found himself standing before the Headmistress's door. The gargoyle statue which guarded Dumbledore's office was gone, replaced by a granite sphinx. The sphinx's eyes opened at Severus's approach, and the creature said in a melodious feminine voice, "Greetings, Professor. How may I assist you?"

"I need to speak with the Headmistress, if you please."

The statue raised a chiseled eyebrow. "What is the password?"

"Nepeta Cataria."

Diamond-tipped claws made slight chinking noises on the floor as the stone beast moved aside. "Please proceed." She glanced down at Crookshanks. "No password is required from you, half-cat. You would simply walk through the walls anyway should I deny you entrance."

Severus snorted in disgust as Crookshanks sauntered through the doorway with his bottle-brush tail held at a smug height.

"Nepeta Cataria, Minerva?" He took the steaming cup of tea proffered by the Headmistress and blew over its rippled surface before sipping. "The scientific term for catnip isn't a very secure password."

The Headmistress shrugged. "You and Pomona are the only ones who would know anything about the scientific names of plants, so I figured it was safe."

His feathers somewhat unruffled by Minerva's offhand confidence in his knowledge, Severus sat his tea down on the table and relaxed into his chair. He told her everything and showed her the poem Hermione had included in her suicide letter. "I need to speak with Albus."

"You most certainly do." She cocked her head to one side. "Severus, have you taken a really good look at this poem?"

"I've seen more of that blasted poem than I care to." He watched the Headmistress carefully. "Why, what do you see?"

Minerva looked up from the parchment. "This isn't some young lover's overdone poem; this is a very old shaman spell."

Eyes widening in alarm, Severus got up from his chair and snapped the paper from Minerva's grasp; the Headmistress poked his arm for his rudeness.

"The Dark Lord used shaman blood magic to recreate his physical body." He looked at Minerva with very real alarm. "How in the seven hells did Miss Granger get her hands on this?"

Albus's voice rang out from his portrait. "Because I gave it to her."

Both of them whirled around to the painted image of the former Headmaster. Minerva recovered her tongue first. "Oh, Albus, how could you give something like that to Hermione?"

Severus was nearly shaking with fury. Albus had used and abused him; that much was certain, but he had done things in his life that merited such punishment. Miss Granger had not.

"Why would you do such a thing?" He clenched his teeth to keep from shouting. "What the hell were you thinking?" His teeth lost their battle to control his voice. "GODDAMNIT, ALBUS, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO US?!"

Albus raised a painted palm. "Severus, my boy, there's no need to shout-"

"Fuck you, Albus. Your days of controlling my every movement are done." He held up the parchment for Albus to see. "Now tell me what this is, or so help me I will introduce you to Muggle turpentine."

Minerva sighed and returned to her desk. "I would almost be nostalgic for the two of you fighting, but somehow it has lost its charm." She sighed in resignation and sat down. "I cannot be your Secret Keeper any longer, Albus. Tell the man the truth."

Severus summoned a chair and sat near Albus's portrait. "Yes, Albus, tell the man the truth," he sneered. "Apparently there really are first times for everything. No thank you, Minerva, I've had quite enough tea. Now, old man, tell me. What the hell did you do?"

iWake up…

Wake up…

Wake up, you insufferable girl…/i

Hermione opened her eyes and slowly sat up. She could have sworn her Potions professor was talking to her, but it must have been a dream because he was nowhere to be seen.

iIt took you long enough./i

She slunk back against her pillow, drawing the blanket up to her chin. Her eyes were wide and wild, searching for the source of the voice that sounded so much like her hateful teacher.

iHate was the only thing that brought a reaction. Did you not realize the depths of your own apathy?/i

Assorted items crashed to the floor as Hermione knocked her table askew in a mad scramble to get out of bed.

iAs you were, you crazed slattern! Do you wish to show your backside to all and sundry?/i

Her chin trembling, she managed to whisper, "Where are you?"

iI'm in your mind, you idiot. Are you sure you're Hermione Granger? She was the smartest witch of her age, and you are most…obviously…not./i

Hermione fell to her knees sobbing, her face in her hands. "Why are you deviling me? Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"

iYou tempted me./i

She crawled back into bed and burrowed beneath her blanket, holding it close. She must have gone mad; why else was she hearing voices? Memories of television programs with frightening images of schizophrenics locked away in asylums flashed through her mind, and she began to cry in earnest.

iShhh, stop that now./i The Severus-like voice in her mind was tender, which proved that she must have gone bonkers. Severus Snape was never tender, especially not with her. iYou are neither bonkers nor developing Schizophrenia. The barrier is disintegrating, and I am bleeding through./i

"What barrier?"

Silence.

"Professor, what barrier?"

Nothing.

"What barrier are you talking about?" Hermione shouted.

"Here now, that's enough of that." Poppy Pomfrey entered with a small bottle and a spoon. "There will be no more shouting, Miss Granger. You'll wear yourself out."

Eyes full of terror stared up at the Mediwitch. "But I heard him, Madam Pomfrey. I heard Professor Snape in my head!"

Poppy shook her head as she measured out a dose of the foul-smelling potion she had brought with her. "You are simply overwrought, Miss Granger. Your emotions have been stripped bare, and that is enough to make anyone hallucinate." She held out the spoon.

"But it was real," Hermione said around the spoon, making a face at the nasty flavor. Why did Professor Snape's potions always taste so bad?

iBecause I enjoy the tortured looks on your faces./i

"There! I heard him again!" Hermione looked up at the Mediwitch hopefully. "You heard him, didn't you?" Her eyes took on a slightly mad gleam. "Please tell me you heard him!"

Poppy shook her head sadly. "I heard nothing, child." She pulled up the blanket around Hermione and fluffed her pillow. "Now go to sleep. Everything will be better in the morning."

Hermione made to protest, but the potion was strong, and it pulled her into unconsciousness.

For one of the very few times in his life, Severus Snape was speechless. He looked down at his chest and fingered the long, thin, silvery scar that ran down his breastbone and surmised that Hermione must have one just like it.

"It was the only way to keep you alive, my boy. I couldn't have just thrown you away or left you to die. There was no other way to ensure that you would survive."

Severus looked down at Crookshanks. "This is what she meant by her familiar following her heart." He gazed back up at the portrait. "My heart beats within Hermione's chest and hers in mine."

Albus sighed. "Yes, that is how the spell manifested. It was supposed to be temporary, though; Miss Granger couldn't have held your heart long-term without spiritual damage."

"Why am I not similarly affected?"

Minerva rose from her desk and approached the pair. "Read the poem again, Severus."

The dark wizard gazed at the parchment, but no insights were forthcoming. "I'm simply not seeing it."

"It's the last line. Look here." Minerva pointed to the words. "If only you had loved me," she read. "There's your answer. You don't love her, so she can't hold your heart without it hurting her."

"But, I'm not damaged by hers."

Minerva simply stared at him.

Severus let loose an impressive string of swear words and hung his head in his hands. "Oh, that foolish, foolish girl."


	4. Chapter 4

It was early morning, still dark outside, when Hermione woke. She blearily rubbed the sand from her eyes and sat up, desperately needing the loo. A portable one had been left by her bedside in case she felt the need in the middle of the night, so she drew the curtains around her bed and made use of what had been provided to her. When she was done, the commode calculated her output, measured it against her liquid intake, and cleaned itself.

Hermione noticed a clear gem on her table as she made her way back to bed. She sneered in disgust when she recognized what it was. "A Sneakoscope calibrated for suicide watch; how lovely."

_Can you blame them?_

She whirled around, desperately looking for the source of her Professor's voice. "Where are you? Show yourself!"

_Does that really work, do you think? Does the dastardly villain drop his disguise simply because it's demanded of him?_

Hermione sat on the edge of her bed and balled her fists in her hair. "What curse is this? What's wrong with me?"

_I could elaborate if you wish, but we don't have that kind of time._

The bed squeaked slightly as she curled up in a ball, her fanned out on the starched white pillowcase. "Okay, Hermione," she whispered, pausing only to wipe her nose on her sleeve. "It's apparent that you've lost your mind."

_Not your mind; your heart_.

"WILL YOU STOP THAT!" she screamed into her pillow, mindful not to make so much noise that the Mediwitch would come dose her again.

_No._

Hermione began to cry softly, pulling the blanket over her.

_Tell me, Miss Granger. Why do you wish to die?_ The Professor's voice was kinder, leading Hermione to think that he felt somewhat guilty for making her cry. She soon discounted the notion, though, remembering how he had treated her in class.

She wiped her eyes on the soft material and sniffed indelicately. "It doesn't matter. You wouldn't understand anyway; I barely understand it myself."

Comfort and warmth fluttered through her chest. _Try me._

"I feel so…empty," she muttered as she fixed her pillow. "Well, empty isn't quite right. I don't feel that I have nothing inside me; rather, I feel that what is inside me wants me to be empty." She closed her eyes and concentrated. "There is no color left in the world. I gave my rainbow away and never got it back."

The voice in her head was silent.

Sighing dejectedly, Hermione got in a comfortable position where she could fall asleep and forget.

Severus raised his head from his hands and stared at the portrait of his most hated friend. "What is going to happen to her, Albus?" he asked dejectedly, his voice raw with rage and guilt. "Did you even tell her the risks?"

The portrait wore a pained expression. "It was not pertinent to discuss them at the time."

"'Not pertinent?'" Severus barked, his fists clenched so tight his fingernails almost cut into his palms. "Why was it not pertinent to tell her that she might, at best, lose her mind, at worst, lose her soul?"

"Severus, please…"

The dark wizard held up his hand. "Not now, Minerva. You had your chance." Severus leaned in closer to the portrait. "Months have passed since then, Albus. Months. " He narrowed his eyes. "I have been at peace during that time, so she must be carrying something lethal."

A look of pain momentarily flashed across the late Headmaster's painted face.

Severus backed away and shook with fury. "What did you do, old man?" When no answer was forthcoming, he snapped. "WHAT DID YOU GIVE HER THAT WAS MINE?"

"You don't love the 'insufferable Know-It-All,'" Albus snapped, accurately imitating Severus's hateful sneer. "What do you care if she suffers?"

"Och, Albus, that's quite enough," Minerva said, stepping between the two. "I'm no longer your Secret Keeper now that the cat is out of the bag." She turned to Severus. "When you were finally returned to us after the Shack, we had to keep you on suicide watch because you were sorely determined to do away with yourself. You even deactivated a Sneakoscope we set to monitor your tendencies." She stepped away from him, wringing her hands. "It was eventually determined that your memories were haunting you. We discovered that you had cast _Legilimens_ on every person you tortured in your duties as a Death Eater. You told me yourself it was so He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named would think you reveled in your assignments, but it was truly to alleviate some of their pain, and those memories were killing you."

Severus slumped back into his chair. "Why don't I remember any of this?" He put his hand over his forehead. "Did you _Obliviate_ me? Why not just use a Pensieve?"

Minerva shook her head. "The memories were too deeply imbedded. It was Miss Granger who came up with the idea of a temporary transference. Conventional magic hadn't worked, so Albus gave her the shaman spell to work with." The Headmistress gazed upon her Deputy with sad eyes. "She volunteered herself to be the vessel; I think she loved you even then." She glanced over at Albus. "The Headmaster was made the binder of the spell, but he passed on before a more permanent solution was reached. It was then that we discovered the spell didn't dissolve with the death of the binder."

The portrait spoke. "The barrier keeping those poisonous memories out of Miss Granger's consciousness is dissolving, and we have no idea how to stop it."

_I…regret…causing you harm; such was not my intent._

"How can you harm me?" Hermione mumbled sleepily. "You're not even real."

_Oh, I am very real, I assure you._

She snorted. "Prove it, Professor Fancy-Pants."

_I will forgive your disrespect this one time. How may I prove my…reality?_

"Tell me something I don't know."

Now it was the Professor's turn to snort. _Color me unsurprised; very well, then. I shall teach you how to deactivate the Sneakoscope which has you trapped here._

Hermione rolled her eyes. "There's no way to deactivate a Sneakoscope; that's why they're so useful."

_Do you always show such a lack of faith in your hallucinations?_

"Now I know I'm going crazy. Professor Snape would never tell a joke, especially not to me. Alrighty, then, let's get on with it. Teach me how to deactivate a Sneakoscope." Hermione was full of doubt, but a part of her—a very tiny part—was excited at the prospect of learning something new, especially something as potentially useful as deactivating Sneakoscopes.

_Pick up the 'scope and turn it over so that you're looking at the underside._

Hermione complied.

_Now, bring it close so that you can see inside the crystal._

"I see all sorts of lines and fractures." She looked at the top of the gem and then underneath again. "Hmm. They're only visible from the bottom."

_Astute as ever_, the voice sighed. _If you concentrate on the individual cracks, you will see images flash through the gem. What you are looking for is a crack that gives you the image of an act of suicide._

Fascinated, Hermione watched the scenes flash through the gem. Lies, robbery, adultery (which made her blush furiously), and murder flashed through her vision until she happened upon an image of herself jumping from the Astronomy tower. She cleared her throat. "I, um, I think I've found it."

_Splendid. Now summon your wand, repair the crack, and you'll be free._

"But, every patient's wand is locked up when they stay overnight in the Infirmary."

_I shared with you knowledge you did not have. I never said you'd be able to use it._

"You tricked me!" Hermione set the Sneakoscope on her table so as not to set it off accidentally. "Now how am I to know whether I'm crazy or not?"

_Use your head, girl. Would Severus Snape have so readily granted your wish of spoon-fed knowledge that you did not have to earn? Would I have been so accommodating, Miss Granger? _

Hermione felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. "Oh dear Merlin, I have Severus Snape in my head."

_Not yet, but you are about to._

Pain blossomed in the left side of her chest and radiated down her left arm and up into her neck. She broke out in a cold sweat, and it became painful for her to breathe. Hermione screamed out for Madam Pomfrey, but all that came out was a strangled whisper.

_You don't remember, Miss Granger, but you took part in a ritual that ended up with your heart in my chest and mine in yours. It was supposed to be temporary, but something went wrong, and our time has run out. Miss Granger… Hermione…please forgive me for what you are about to witness._

Powerful magic burst from her chest, blowing everything across the room and shattering the offending Sneakoscope. Time seemed to stop, and Hermione took a deep, cleansing breath as the pressure in her chest lessened.

Her peace was not to last; memories of Severus Snape's Death Eater atrocities slammed into her mind all at once, and she could only writhe on the floor, screaming in impotent terror, as every spirit-rending deed blasted through her mind and seared her soul.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: This chapter is fairly intense, with mention and description of various atrocities committed by Death Eaters (including Severus Snape). You have been warned.**

An expensive quill scratched across an equally expensive piece of parchment as Severus Snape made a list of all possible resources of information while sipping Minerva's endless supply of tea. "I can contact Rohrman later today to access Malfoy's books," he mumbled, his ink-stained fingers guiding the black quill.

Minerva refilled his cup. "What was that about Malfoy?"

"What? Oh, yes, more tea please, thank you...that's fine." He sipped and sighed. "Malfoy's books were seized by the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell. I need to see what he had on shaman magic, if anything. I have a contact at the Ministry who may be able to help."

"Why not try the Restricted Section first?"

Severus snorted. "Salazar Slytherin would never have allowed anything regarding shaman magic within these walls." He finished his tea in one gulp. "It would have destroyed the purity of our energy."

The Headmistress sighed. "I see the Slytherin notion of purity was an early development."

The line between his brows deepened as Severus frowned. "You Gryffindors harp on the notion of inter-House relations, yet yours is the most prejudiced." He stood and paced the room, his hands gesturing as he spoke. "Salazar Slytherin valued the purity of magic, not the purity of bloodlines. He couldn't give a tinker's damn how someone was born as long as they were a witch or a wizard. The only ones he excluded were shamans." He stopped to wipe a bit of dust from Albus's sleeping image. "Shaman magic is wildly unpredictable, and he saw no value in that which could not be harnessed to his own purposes. The fact that shamans were all born of Muggles was simply an unhappy coincidence."

The portrait opened its eyes. "That 'unhappy coincidence' has kept us completely in the dark as to the effects shaman magic has upon us. We may very well have been able to predict the outcome of our current situation had Salazar's paranoia not closed off all avenues of research."

Severus whirled on the former Headmaster. "Had your plotting and scheming not been so bloody blinded by Godrick Gryffindor's sense of his own importance, this wouldn't even be an issue."

"And had you not been so bloody blinded by Slytherin ambition, Tom Riddle would have never known of the prophesy. You set this entire chain of events in motion!"

Severus drew his wand. "You bastard-"

A thunderous concussion wave blasted through the castle, shaking Hogwarts to its very foundations. Minerva lost her balance and would have fallen had Severus not been fast enough to catch her.

The sleeping portraits of Headmasters and Headmistresses past awoke all at once and began chattering, trying to find out what had shuddered them from their dreams. The ensuing cacophony was abruptly silenced when a giant silver bear* bounded into the room.

"Severus, please come to the hospital ward immediately and bring the Headmistress with you. There was an explosion in the Infirmary, and I've been warded out." The creature vanished after delivering its message.

Minerva shot up at once. "That was Poppy. Something must have happened to Hermione.." Both the Headmistress and her Potions Professor headed for the stairs.

Left with Crookshanks and the resurging din of chattering portraits for company, Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes and covered them with his hands. "That bear has never brought glad tidings to this office."

The Headmistress turned to the granite sphinx. "Felrex, transport the two of us to the Infirmary immediately."

The stone beast shook her head, creating a delicate grinding sound. "I cannot, Headmistress. The one the girl brought forth has sealed the room against my magic."

"Then transport us just outside the door."

The stone beast smiled. "That I can do, Headmistress." The sphinx drew in a deep breath and blew on the three humans standing before her. "Now, blink." Severus closed his eyes in front of the sphinx and reopened them in front of the Infirmary door; Minerva silently materialized beside him.

Poppy greeted them tersely. "Minerva, Severus. I've not been able to break down whatever is blocking the door."

Drawing his wand, Severus started to dismantle the wards, but he frowned before casting his first spell. "This cannot be."

"Severus?"

He turned to Minerva, oblivious to her hand on his arm. "These wards are mine; they have my signature." He shrugged off his robes and frock coat, banishing them back to his rooms. "You two will need to step back. These are my old Death Eater wards, and they won't take kindly to being dismantled."

It took only minutes to unlock the Infirmary's entrance, the three adults dodging stray hexes each time a layer was brought down. When the last layer fell and the doors finally opened, the three of them were treated to a scene of devastation.

Beds were strewn everywhere, their mattresses laying askew. Potion bottles had shattered where they sat, their contents sprayed like multicolored blood droplets all over the room. Glass shards were imbedded in the walls, and every flat surface was covered in the ruined shreds of students' medical records.

In the middle of the room stood a tall, thin, black-cloaked man, peering down at the disheveled figure of an unconscious young woman. His head was covered in a hood, and an ornate silver mask disguised his features. He looked up at the sound of footsteps.

"Ah, Severus, we meet again."

A chill swept down the dark wizard's spine. He knew this voice, knew it intimately, but he could not place it. "Greetings, brother. I feel that we have met before, and not just at the Dark Lord's table."

The masked figure answered with a wicked chuckle. "You know me well, though you have forgotten me. That will be quite sufficient, ladies," the man said, pointing his wand at the Mediwitch and Headmistress. "This girl belongs to me and no one else."

Severus froze. "That wand is identical to mine." He stared at the figure. "And my Death Eater robes and mask." He advanced on the cloaked man, snarling. "Where did you obtain these unholy things?"

The Death Eater pulled back his hood and removed the intricate silver piece hiding his face. "They are mine."

Severus Snape was staring at a mirror image of himself. He drew his own wand. "Polyjuice. I demand you tell me your identity before I _Crucio _it out of you."

The cloaked figure raised his wand and banished the two women to the Mediwitch's office, locking and warding the door behind them. "I am so familiar with _Crucio _that it tickles."

Severus pointed his wand at the intruder's throat. "Last chance."

"Have you become such a fool in the time you've had a Gryffindor heart that you do not recognize your own Slytherin one?" The man stepped forward, interceding himself between Severus and Hermione. "I am the Death Eater, Severus, the one who witnessed everything you did. Every violent death, every screaming rape, every child's neck you snapped in mercy, I was there. I remember it all, the humans butchered like cattle for potions the Dark Lord craved, the tortured cries of the young boys he gave Lucius as reward, and the little piles of Rapture you inhaled to keep your cock soft. I remember all of it."

The Death Eater circled Severus. "I remember how you wept tears of guilt for Lily, and I remember how you wept tears of shame as you took yourself in hand with Miss Granger's name on your lips. I remember your anger at her for unknowingly tempting you, and your rage at yourself for being tempted. How you so wanted to bury your cock in her virgin cunt and make her scream in ecstasy. I remember it all, Severus, every damning thought." He looked down at Hermione. "And that desire burns within me still."

The cloaked man moved fast, too fast, and Severus only grabbed air. "Your reflexes are slow, brother. Lack of terror does that to a man," the Death Eater smirked. He stepped backwards over Hermione, never keeping his eyes off Severus, and scooped the unconscious girl into his arms. "Unfortunately, you were bound by the rules of this school not to lay a hand on her." He glanced down at Hermione with maddened, lust-filled eyes. "Fortunately, I was never bound by such laws."

The Death Eater glared Severus in the eye. "She is mine, and mine alone; you are unworthy of her."

"I will not allow you to abduct a student from the premises."

"How fortunate for me, then, that she has graduated," the Death Eater snarled. "The shaman spell Albus so graciously allowed her to use called forth the version of you that loved her, so a choice must be made. Either reintegrate me into your consciousness and suffer the consequences, or live in peace while Miss Granger is in the hands of the Death Eater you once were."

Severus could only stare in shock as his doppelganger vanished, taking Miss Granger with him.

***AN: Bears are often associated with protection and healing. Given how protective Poppy Pomfrey is with her patients, a bear seemed the logical choice for her Patronus.**


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione was at King's Cross station, and everything was white, including the wispy sleeveless gown she wore.

The silence was nearly deafening. She walked to one of the closer benches and sat down to collect her thoughts. Where was she? Why was she in white? Was she dead?

"You are for the moment."

Hermione turned in the direction of the voice and nearly flew from the bench in order to hug its owner.

"Harry!"

Harry Potter, dressed in white robes, opened his arms and tightly embraced his close friend. He stroked her soft curls as she wept on his shoulder. "Shh, Hermione, shh…I know, I know."

After calming her sobs down to occasional tears, Harry guided them to another bench and sat down.

"It's been so long since I've seen you," Hermione sniffled, taking his proffered handkerchief and wiping her eyes. "These past months have been awful," she mumbled.

"Tell me about them," Harry said, rubbing her shoulder.

"First off, I have a few questions."

Harry laughed. "Since when do you not have questions?"

Hermione grew serious. "Where are we? Why are we dressed all in white?" She visibly cringed. "Am I dead?"

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We are in a place that leads to many destinations, and I don't know why everything is white." He looked up at Hermione. "And yes, you are dead, though not for long."

"Why not?" The question came out as a whine, and she made a distasteful face. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just don't want to be there anymore," Hermione sighed. "I don't want to go back to Severus's vitriolic hatred. It only serves to remind me how futile the whole thing was."

Harry sat up. "Herms, there's something you don't understand."

"What's there not to understand? He doesn't love me and never could, end of story. And don't call me 'Herms;' it sounds like a type of smelly cheese."

Harry smothered a laugh. "What I meant, Her-my-oh-nee, is that the spell you cast is still active." He leaned towards his bench partner and grabbed her hands. "The magic has yet to run its course. You're not done."

"But, how is that possible? The very last line says it all: 'If only you had loved me.' Snape doesn't love anyone but your mum."

Harry grimaced. "I've spoken with her about it. I don't know why the idea of him in love with my mum bothers me more than the idea of him in love with you, but it does."

"Well," she scoffed, her voice tinged with bitterness, "You don't have to worry about it on my account."

"Hermione…"

"No, Harry. He only loves your mum, and that's the way it is. Now," she said, standing up and having her first good look around, "which way to my particular brand of afterlife?"

"You still don't understand." Harry stood facing Hermione and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Dumbledore set this in motion so that Snape's mind would have a safe place to heal when everything was said and done." He shook her slightly. "Dumbledore chose you, Hermione, because you are the only one who could give him that safe place."

Hermione shook her head. "Harry, I'm sorry. I still don't understand."

"You were the only one who could make the spell work because Snape already loved you!"

She backed away. "No, it's not true. It can't be true. Look at how he's treated me, Harry. I'm meaningless to him."

Harry tilted his head at a sound Hermione couldn't hear. "Your time here is done, and now I'm sending you back." He silenced her protests with and upheld hand. "Just ask yourself this, Hermione. Why would he be so mean to someone so meaningless?"

She didn't have a chance to answer before darkness claimed her.

Minerva had retired for the night, but Severus was pacing her office once more, the words of Hermione's spell floating in the air. He mumbled to himself and scribbled notes in the air, dissecting and cross-sectioning the poem to figure out its true meaning.

"You could simply ask me, my boy, and I would tell you what it meant."

Severus never looked away from his notes. "No good, old man. I cannot believe a word you say, so it would be a waste of time talking with you." He scribbled in the air with his wand and moved one section of notes. "I've no doubt whatsoever that you will be as duplicitous in death as you were in life."

The portrait huffed in annoyance. "What can I do to convince you of my…integrity?"

The hair stood up on the back of Severus's neck, and a chill went down his spine. The phrase was familiar somehow, and the dark wizard turned and met the portrait's eyes. "There is nothing you can do to convince me of your integrity because you never had any."

Albus narrowed his eyes and smirked. "Alright, we'll play it your way. Here's a piece of truth, Severus, which will verify that I'm telling you the truth. I know about your inclinations toward Miss Granger."

The air scribbles resumed their movement as Severus snorted and turned away from the portrait. "You're barking mad, Albus. The only inclination I have ever felt toward the simpering know-it-all is a supreme sense of annoyance."

The portrait examined his fingernails. "Even when you fist yourself and paint the shower wall?"

Severus hunched his shoulders and sighed. "You should have been in Slytherin, you bastard. What do you want from me, Albus? Haven't I sold you enough of my soul?"

"I am trying to rectify the terrible wrongs I've done you, Severus. Please, I beg of you, sit and listen."

The notes in the air stopped once more as Severus turned to the portrait. "You're being serious," he said incredulously, his head tilted to the side.

Albus sighed, grateful that he had gotten Severus to listen. "I have found out what went wrong the night Miss Granger cast the spell."

Furrowing his brow, the dark wizard pulled up a chair. "I'm listening."

The portrait leaned forward. "I gave Miss Granger the spell because I knew she loved you. No sputtering, my boy, we haven't the time. Suffice it to say that she loved you enough to open her mind and heart to you, allowing the parts of your mind that were so damaged by the war to heal enough to be re-integrated back into your psyche.

"You must understand, Severus," Albus said, holding his arms out pleadingly, "we were at our wits' end. No one knew how to keep you from self-destructing. You were a volatile combination of rage and melancholy, and no one knew how to keep you from imploding."

"I trust this will eventually get to a point, Albus?"

"Your interruptions will only make this take longer."

Severus rolled his eyes and sighed. He gestured for the former Headmaster to continue.

"When Miss Granger followed the only instructions accompanying the spell, 'Read me, please,' she wove her assumptions about your situation into the spell itself."

Severus frowned. "I still don't understand what you…oh, buggering _fuck_, Lily."

"Oh yes. Miss Granger's incorrect assumption regarding your…interest…in her led the magic to fully enhance your selective memories into an entirely new person; it was the only way to fulfill the requirements of the spell as Miss Granger had cast it. She has been magically depleted these last few months because all of her energy went to creating a new psyche. In essence, her mind was pregnant with the growing mind of another."

"But, how did an entirely new body manifest?"

Albus blinked. "Magic, I would guess."

Severus entertained thoughts of turpentine again.


	7. Chapter 7

A rough fingertip gently caressed the side of her face. "Miss Granger…come back to me…" The voice's owner leaned closer and placed a gentle kiss on her soft lips. "_Noli abire_," he breathed, tenderly touching her closed eyelids. "Please don't go."

Hermione sucked in a great heaving breath, her back coming up off the table. The Death Eater slid an arm underneath and raised her up, positioning himself behind her and straddling the narrow slab so that her back rested against his hard chest.

"Deep breaths, yes, that's it," he crooned, rubbing her bare arms slowly. "Open your lungs. No, don't speak yet, little know-it-all. We have time for such things later." He handed her a glass of water.

Hermione had the presence of mind to sniff the clear liquid before taking a drink, but she needn't have worried; she coughed up most of what she drank. Snape leaned her forward, one hand lightly patting her back while his other arm supported her weight.

"Bring it up, Miss Granger. That's it, cough out the death."

After coughing for what seemed like an hour, Hermione leaned back against her benefactor, exhausted. "Where," she wheezed, taking small sips of water to help her throat, "are we, Professor?"

A large hand took her empty water glass and summoned a filled one after banishing what she had expelled from her lungs. "I am not your Professor, Miss Granger. As for our location, we are in the basement of my family home."

Time stopped for Hermione as the memory of the last few months slammed into her. Her hands went slack, and the glass of water fell and shattered in slow motion.

Hermione struggled to be free of her Death Eater captor, but he would have none of it. He easily overpowered her, carrying her upstairs while she beat her fists on his chest uselessly, her body too weak to hurt him.

They ended up in an upstairs bedroom.

Snape placed Hermione on a soft bed with curtains on all sides. He divested them both of their clothes and crawled under the blankets with her, drawing the curtains closed. They were plunged into darkness for a brief moment until a single floating candle lit itself near the ceiling, casting light and shadows over the both of them.

Hermione pulled the covers to her chin. "Please, Professor, please don't do this."

A pained expression crossed the Death Eater's face. "I am not your Professor, Miss Granger, nor will I hurt you." He reached out a hand but snatched it back when Hermione cringed. "Miss Granger, please. I have to use my _Lorem Ingenium_ to help you."

His tactic worked; nothing could cut through Hermione Granger's fear like offhand mention of something she didn't know. She stopped shaking, and her brown eyes peered over the top of the blanket.

"What is a _'Lorem Ingenium_?' Is it some sort of arcane spell? What branch of magic is it in?"

Snape reached over and touched her forehead and nose with gentle fingers. "Some wizards and witches are born with a _Lorem Ingenium_. It means 'core talent.'"

Righteous indignation flooded through her. She dropped the blanket down to where it covered her breasts and turned to face her bed partner, resting her head on a bent arm. "The manner of a person's birth or their lineage has no bearing on their worth as a witch or wizard!"

"Some wizards and witches are born with a particular gift, a knack for something, a core talent." Smiling to himself, Snape drew his fingers down her exposed neck. "And it has nothing to do with your bloodline."

Hermione shivered as she broke out in goose bumps from Snape's hand on her neck. Gathering her Gryffindor courage, she looked the Death Eater in the eye. "And what is your core talent?"

His fingers traced her collar bone. "The _Lorem Ingenium_ always gives its owners a striking appearance, often connected to their particular talent." He noted her lack of fear and scooted over, his face very close to hers. "Look at me, Miss Granger." His breath was warm and sweet. "What is my core talent?"

She drew in a shuddering breath. "I…I would guess an affinity for the Dark Arts."

The Death Eater smiled. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger," and then he kissed her.

Hermione had never felt anything like it. Electric shocks ran from her lips to her groin, and her blood sang with dark whispers. She tried to resist, to hold out against the Death Eater's seduction, but it was pointless in the end; his magic was simply too strong.

Snape crawled under the blanket with her, his gentle hands and knowing fingers caressing her breasts and tweaking their hard nipples. "I was in your mind for months, Miss Granger," he purred. "I know every inch of you, inside and out." He reached down and brushed a hand through the damp curls on her pubis. "I know every wish, every desire, and every fear."

Tendrils of dark energy reached out from the Death Eater and reverently touched Hermione's skin, light as a feather in some places and confidently firm in others. They worshiped her skin, setting her blood on fire.

She was so distracted she didn't notice Severus move and settle between her open legs. Hermione tried to close herself to him, but he held her in place.

"Let me worship you, My Lady." He increased the magic of his spell, his words echoing slightly, the reverberation of his voice a living thing that crawled into her most sensitive areas. "Let me taste your sacred oils."

Hermione was lost. She opened her legs for him, whimpering only slightly when his thumbs opened her core. His pebbled tongue gently parted her folds, the tip barely grazing her clit. Drops of honey landed on his chin, and Snape laughed sinfully. "Well done, Miss Granger."

Approval; the very thing she had always craved from this harshest of taskmasters. She ground her hips upwards, begging with her body. "More, Professor. Please…"

Snape licked harder and faster, scraping her slick flesh as he spoke. "My…name…is…Sev…er…us…" He sucked her clit into his mouth and bore down on it, caressing every square millimeter of its surface with his lips and tongue.

Her orgasm was devastating. Her head flung itself back as she screamed, her core pouring out honey as Snape's dark energy pulsed in her veins. She thrashed, her hips bucking on their own, but Snape held her down, his talented mouth swallowing every drop of fluid she blessed him with.

Hermione reached for the Death Eater who had her enthralled. "I'm so empty; please, I need you…"

Hermione pulled her knees to her chest, nearly sobbing with need. Snape slithered up her body until the tip of his erection nudged into her core. He pushed all the way in, his dark energy parting her hymen to make way for his rock-hard length.

Stars bloomed in Hermione's vision, and she could barely breathe as pleasure consumed her. Dark energy burned in her bones and nerves, setting her very soul on fire with passion.

Snape rocked in and out of Hermione's young body, each stroke bringing her closer to the precipice. He pinned her ankles to the bed, delving deep into her core, molding her flesh to his. "Be with me," he chanted, his hips snapping in rhythm. He plunged her depths until she could finally take no more.

Tingles rose from her toes up to her pinned ankles, leaving fire in their wake as they made their way up to her knees and thighs. The same tingles spread out and downward from her chest to her arms and breasts, and when the two waves of sensation met at her hips, her cunt exploded, bathing Snape's tight balls. Hermione's channel contracted tightly, relaxed, and contracted over and over again, her virgin flesh milking his cock.

With a broken howl, Snape became rigid as stone. His face and chest flushed, and fireworks erupted in his balls. He grunted and growled as he shot his lust into his former student, his anal muscles contracting in excruciating pleasure.

Snape looked deep into Hermione's eyes and summoned the last bit of energy he had. "My time here grows short. I must go back into your mind." He kissed her reverently, taking sips from her dazed mouth. "No matter what happens, please remember that in the human soul, the greatest darkness and the greatest love come from the same source."

He moved away from Hermione, massaging the muscles of her legs. "You have to take me back, for I cannot stand to live only in your mind, never touching you this way again." He gently touched her cheek. "I am Snape; I am Severus; I am the Death Eater; I am Snivellus." He kissed her one last time, his lips resting on hers for a desperate moment. "Please don't send me away. Please don't be like Lily." He vanished in a cloud of black dust that settled on Hermione's sweaty body.

Deciding that the thing she needed right that moment was a shower, Hermione got up in search of the bathroom. When she found it, she gathered what towels and soap she could find and made for the tub. She passed the mirror above the sink, glanced in, and froze.

She wasn't stunned by her bruises or messy hair (she had expected both); she was shocked by her eyes. Her brown irises had turned black as coal, the very same shade as her Professor's.

_Take me back, My Lady. Please, let me love you._


	8. Chapter 8

The moon was newly risen when Hermione apparated into Hogsmeade to use The Hog's Head's passage to Hogwarts; however, Fate was not with her this night, for she appeared in front of the Inn just as Lucius Malfoy was being forcibly removed from the establishment. She hid in the shadows, desperate to find a way inside undetected.

"I don't serve your kind here," Aberforth Dumbledore snarled, shoving the filthy, disheveled blond man to the ground. "I would rather hang Fletcher's portrait above the mantle than give a room to the likes of you," he spat.

Rising to his feet, the dark wizard pulled his wand from his filthy sleeve and aimed for the old man's chest. "No one disrespects me and lives." He rapidly sketched a complicated rune in the air and sent it flying.

"Damn it," Hermione thought. "I can't get to the tunnel if Aberforth's dead." Unbidden information poured into Hermione's mind. Before she quite knew what was happening, she drew her own wand and cast an unfamiliar spell aimed between the two combatants. _"Ut Ex Reditu!"*_

The rune changed directions in midair and slammed into Lucius, throwing him back to the ground. Aberforth, knowing trouble when he saw it, promptly fled back into the Inn and bolted the door behind him.

Hermione shook so badly she nearly dropped her wand. _None of that now_, the Death Eater chided, and he took control of her hand, tightening her grip. _Malfoy isn't dead, and he will kill you if you don't give me control._

"I don't understand…"

_Let me help you. Just relax and fall back…yes, that's it; you can trust me, Miss Granger._ Hermione stumbled, her eyes fluttering.

Lucius, who had been covertly observing the witch that blasted him, jumped at his chance to flee. He did not have the power he once did, and he was Slytherin enough to know it. He turned and ran, his filthy blond hair flowing behind him.

_"I don't think so, Lucius," _Hermione said slowly, her voice overlaid with the Death Eater's. She reached out her hand, made a wandless gesture, and pulled hard.

With a yelp, Lucius Malfoy stopped running and flew into the air like a dog who had reached the end of its tether. He slammed down hard, the back of his head bouncing off the cobblestones. Lucius's vision blurred, and when it cleared he was staring up at Hermione. He made to sit up, but a strong hand on his forehead stopped him.

_"Be still, Lucius. It will hurt less this way."_ Dark eyes bore into gray ones as Hermione began to sing in her doubled voice.

_"I have finally seen the end._

_I have finally seen the Light._

_I need to care, to live again,_

_But I have not the right._

_Come to me, where magic be,_

_Where madness swallows me whole._

_Come to me, rescue me,_

_Share with me your soul."_

Lucius would have shaken had he the strength. Hermione's doubled voice travelled all around him and through him, cramping his muscles and scraping the inside of his skull. He looked up into the face of his death and begged for the first time in his life; Slytherins had pride, but it was useless if it killed them. "Please, please don't do this." He gasped as he felt himself draining out. "I'll give you anything you want."

Hermione smirked and caressed her victim's face as he sputtered. _"Can you give me time, Lucius? Can you erase the past? Can you make me whole and blameless?"_

Tears coursed down either side of Lucius's head, dripping into his ears. "No," he whispered, blinking to clear his vision. "But you will soil your host if you do this, whoever you are. The darkness of this spell will sully her aura with the kind of sludge that can never be removed, and my death will haunt her forever."

Hermione chuckled; Lucius winced as her voice dripped acid down his spine. _"Whoever said I was going to kill you?" _She leaned forward and kissed him, forcing her tongue inside.

The effect was dramatic. Lucius flopped and screamed into her mouth, his back arching upward as he fought the woman stealing his magic. Light poured from his nostrils and eyes, the fluorescent mist swirling as Hermione breathed it in. When she had sucked down every breath Lucius put forth, he slammed back down onto the pavement, gasping.

Wiping her lips, Hermione grinned and flashed her perfect teeth. _"Enjoy being a Muggle, Lucius."_

Leaving the blond wizard crying in the street, Hermione returned to The Hog's Head. She knocked on the door, but no one answered. Growling in frustration, she breathed out a bit of Lucius's magic onto her closed fist and then slammed it against the wood, shattering it into so many toothpicks. Hermione stepped inside and headed for the bar.

_"I know you're there, Aberforth. How many do you have in residence?"_

"Oh, Miss Granger, what have you come to?"

She raised an eyebrow and sneered. _"Something the world has not seen in over a thousand years, Aberforth. What was old is new, and we are in need of sustenance." _She twisted her head side to side, cracking her neck with a meaty crunch. _"Since you've not said whom you have in residence, I take it you're volunteering?"_

The old man snorted. "I've got four here that were Death Eaters, though I can't prove it. Their Marks faded when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named bit it." He grabbed his ledger and opened it. "They're in rooms two, six, eight, and nine. You want them?" Dust flew when he slammed the book closed. "Be my guest; just remember who it was what set you up with a free buffet."

The Hog's Head Inn wasn't the only place Hermione visited that night; by morning, all of Hogsmead was in chaos. Every suspected Death Eater or Voldemort supporter in town was found drained of magic to the point of being functionally Muggle.

Harry Potter sat on a white bench, his head in his hands. He sat silent as stone for what could have been minutes or days; time was so strange here. He raised his head when he heard shuffling behind him.

"I know you're there, Albus."

The old man chuckled. "I can't put one over on you anymore, my boy, can I?"

Harry scoffed. "I wish you wouldn't call me your boy." He looked out into a white sea of nothingness. "Everyone you've ever called your boy has ended up in a bad way."

The elder wizard shuffled forward and sat down on the bench beside his conversational companion. "I don't know about that, Harry. Severus is still alive."

"But for how long?" Harry turned to the older wizard. "I have no love for Snape, believe me; it's Hermione I'm worried about. What happens to her when your damnable plan comes to fruition?"

Albus cleared his throat. "You must understand, Harry, that it's for the greater good."

Harry snorted. "You can't bait me with your 'greater good' anymore, Albus. I've seen the devastation you wrought in your search for justice against Voldemort." He glared at the former Headmaster. "Just how many lives must you destroy before you're satisfied that the 'greater good' has won?"

"Harry, your parents sacrificed-"

"Don't harp on about my parents. I've met them, you know, and being dead gives one a bit of perspective." He stared back out into the clouds. "Imagine how disillusioning it is to learn that one's sainted parents are nothing more than flawed, fumbling humans who locked themselves into their own fates through shortsightedness and hubris."

Albus smirked. "Miss Granger would be proud of your burgeoning eloquence."

Harry sighed. "I don't belong here anymore, not after what I've done for you." He stood and began to pace. "I've killed her. Gods, I've killed my best friend, and for what?" He whirled on the former Headmaster. "For your crackpot theories on the nature of shamans?" Harry ran his hands through his hair. "I told her your lie, you bastard. I told her Snape loved her."

Albus sat up straighter, his friendly aura replaced by cold professionalism. "Good; I planted the same suggestion in Severus's mind. Thank you for your help, Harry. I couldn't have done it without you."

Harry nodded. "If Hermione dies, rest assured that I will never forgive you, Albus." He loomed over the sitting man. "If you've consigned me to Hell, then by the Gods, I'm taking you with me." He walked into the clouds and vanished.

The former Headmaster sat on the bench for a long time, staring into nothingness.

***Latin for "return to the source."**


	9. Chapter 9

The Headmistress held up a sheet of parchment. "Severus, what is this?"

"I believe it is parchment," he deadpanned.

Minerva frowned. "Ha bloody ha."

Severus sighed dramatically. "It's my resignation letter, Minerva."

The Headmistress gritted her teeth. "I realize that. What the hell are you doing?"

The Potions Master sighed again. "I can't just leave Miss Granger to her fate. While I would like to," he said, shooting the Headmistress a dark look, "the fact remains that I am to blame for her situation, and I want no more blood on my hands."

Minerva narrowed her eyes. "While I commend such bravery, Severus, it sounds suspiciously honorable, coming from you." She leaned forward in her chair. "Why are you really leaving?"

He sat back and folded his arms. "My motives are my own, thank you."

She pinned him with a glare. "You do realize that, as your employer, I am permitted to ask your reason for leaving?"

Severus sneered. "You should also realize that, as my employer, you are permitted to piss off."

"Sayverus Snip!" Minerva stood and shouted, her brogue betraying her anger. "Ye'll keep a civil tongue in your hayd whilst addraysing yer bettars!"

The Potions Master grinned, flashing his crooked teeth; it was so easy to rile her up. "Careful, Minerva; your haggis is showing."

Realizing that she had been so easily manipulated, Minerva straightened her robes, took a deep breath, and sat down. She held up his resignation letter thoughtfully. "You know I can't accept this, not without a permanent mark on your record for not giving an advanced notice."

Severus scoffed. "I hardly have an unblemished record to protect." He stood and made for the door. "I will be gone by nightfall."

"I'm afraid not, my boy," said Albus's portrait.

Severus took in the visage of Dumbledore sitting with his fingers steepled and knew he was somehow caught up in something. He sat back down and growled, "Tom Riddle is dead, Albus. Any claim you had on my life has been expiated."

"While that is true, there is the iScholae Secundus/i to consider."

Minerva was puzzled. "Albus, if you are saying what I think you're saying, then I am sitting here by mistake."

Albus smiled. "Not at all, Min. When Hogwarts needed a new Head, Severus was too ill to fill the post, even though I had performed the ritual for the castle to accept him, so the responsibility of the school fell to you, the next logical choice."

"That doesn't make sense, Albus. When I became Headmistress, the iScholae Secundus/i never came to me, which means the Head before me never cast it."

The portrait smiled in a way that made Severus shiver. "Oh, I cast it, Min; I simply never released it before my death."

Minerva came out of her chair. "You didn't release it? What in Merlin's name were you thinking?!"

Severus knew when he was well and truly buggered. "So this means that I am magically bound to be next in line should Minerva not be able to fulfill her duties."

"That's right, my boy." The portrait's grin was lethal. "You can't leave the school's employ or its grounds. I've locked you in place, Severus, so Miss Granger will just have to figure things out on her own."

Hermione sat hidden in a row of bushes, watching a white peacock strut its way off into the distance. She waited until it was gone and then snuck up to the very edge of the wards surrounding Malfoy Manner.

"_Let me in_," she whispered, her wand out and ready.

Knowledge from Lucius Malfoy's mind bubbled up in the back of her skull. The information swept forward in a deluge of magic, and Hermione's wand moved of its own accord, drawing complex runes she had never seen before. Malfoy Manor's shells of protection quietly fell layer by layer.

Hermione waited for any sort of alarm or attack, but none came, so she silently walked from bush to tree to marble column, careful to avoid the spiteful eyes of Lucius's white peacocks. The Death Eater in her mind whispered constantly, telling her which stones to avoid and which to step on, which sections of the wall she mustn't touch, and how to tell the difference.

The front entrance opened without a sound, the doors swinging effortlessly upon enchanted hinges. The Death Eater silenced her footsteps with a wordless spell and stayed in the shadows, edging around the large room. She had to find the entrance to the main hall.

The main hall was just as empty as the front entrance. Relaxing somewhat, she stepped into the Malfoy library.

"I was wondering when you would get here," said a tired voice by the fire.

Hermione went to the two chairs facing the burning logs and sat in the unoccupied one. "_Good evening, Draco_."

The young blond man grimaced as he sipped his brandy. "Gods, that voice is creepy."

Hermione's features were unaccustomed to so much smirking. "_Your father wasn't fond of it either_."

Draco coughed and sputtered, wasting the expensive alcohol. "Merlin's balls, you don't pull any punches, do you?" He sat his glass down on a nearby table. "I ought to thank you for that, by the way. You've saved me quite a bit of trouble."

"_He's not dead, Draco, just permanently drained of all magical ability_."

"Yes, well," Draco sniffed delicately, "he's as good as dead then, isn't he?"

The Death Eater smiled. "_Oh, I'm afraid so. Purebloods such as Lucius Malfoy do not function well when deprived of their powers_." Hermione leaned forward. "_But you, Draco, you I have use for_."

"I'm done with having a use." The blond man crossed his legs and looked Hermione in her cold black eyes. "I just want to eat when I want, drink when I want, fuck whom I want, and die with a clean soul."

Hermione mimicked Draco's body language, crossing her legs and leaning back into her chair. "_I don't particularly care what you eat, how much you drink, whom you fuck, or when you die. Merlin knows we've all been micromanaged nearly to death_." She stared into the fire. "_I need access to your library, Draco_."

Draco scoffed and opened his arms. "Here you are; read all that you wish."

"_You know very well which library I mean_," she snapped. "_Your father's knowledge supplied the proper runes, but I need Malfoy blood to open the portal. I would rather you gave a drop of your own free will, but know that I am prepared to take what I need without your permission_."

Realization dawned on Draco. "You're after the Dark Lord's books."

"_I'm after far more than that_." Hermione rose from her chair and paced. "_The Dark Lord had a certain book written by a witch who claimed to have turned a pureblooded wizard into a shaman. I need that book, and you are going to help me find it_."

Draco scowled. "Whatever makes you think I would help you? I'm done with all this cloak and dagger business."

Hermione zeroed in for the kill. "_You will help me because I will make you my First. Think, Draco, think! What person would you most like to have back with you? What person would you most like to share your mind and body with, binding your souls together for eternity?_"

His eyes were wide. "Do you mean…are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Hermione nodded.

Draco looked into the fire with haunted eyes. "Harry…"


	10. Chapter 10

After leaving the Headmistress's office in a rage, Severus found himself in front of the Library; apparently his borrowed heart still yearned for the company of the written word. He quietly walked in and surveyed the darkened place, hoping for a small bit of peace.

The old wooden furniture creaked ever so slightly as Severus sat down with a bizarre volume he found on magical beasts, "Carnivorous Unicorns and How to Avoid Them." He rolled his eyes and shook his head, cursing the stupidity of the author. Whoever heard of carnivorous unicorns?

_That's because they've been extinct for a very long time, Professor._

Severus was instantly on his feet, his wand drawn and ready.

_Oh my goodness, please don't hurt any of the books!_

Snarling, the dark wizard extended his magic, feeling for intruders or eavesdropping ghosts. When no threat was forthcoming, Severus began stalking the aisles, taking the corners in small degrees so he could catch whoever was protecting themselves from detection. He knew he heard someone speak to him, and he was going to find little snot who dared to sneak up on him.

_Professor?_

"I will find you, you little shit!" he quietly snarled, narrowing his eyes to see better in the darkness. "No one hides from me forever."

_I-I'm not in the Library, sir. Well, technically I am, but not really. And I'm not a ghost, either, which is why your detection spells didn't work, even though—why have you put your head in your hands, sir?_

"It's finally happened," Severus mumbled to himself. "I've gone 'round the bend." He began casting detection spells in his vicinity, checking to see if an errant book had caused his insanity.

_Um, Professor, you've not developed sudden-onset Schizophrenia, which is actually quite rare. It's me, Hermione Granger._ Her tone turned somewhat bitter. _The 'insufferable Know-It-All.'_

"I know your voice!" Snape growled, keeping his dark eyes on the books around him. "The question is why I'm hearing it in my head." He took a few cautious steps toward the Library exit. "I can't ascertain if one of these books is causing this hallucination."

_Sir, please, I'm not a hallucination!_

"Of course you are!" he roared, provoking a thunderous "SHH!" from every book near him. Severus clenched both his hands and his teeth in frustration; he desperately wanted to hex something. "Of course you are," he whispered, making for one of the comfortable reading nooks so he wouldn't be so close to the bookcases.

_This is ridiculous. I have information that I_ have _to give to you from Harry Potter regarding Professor Dumbledore's plan, and I need you to believe me!_

"Save your phantom breath, Miss Granger," he drawled, settling himself onto a well-padded couch and stretching out his long legs. "Potter is dead, and even you aren't that much of a know-it-all."

I was told that you love me. Harry said so, but—

"Ignoring, for the moment, the fact that Potter is in the Great Beyond, the notion of me loving you is patently insane, Miss Granger," the dark wizard said, lacing his fingers together behind his head. "However, Albus did inform me of your regard towards my person." His tone was smug until he realized he was taking his hallucination seriously. "Which does not matter in the slightest, seeing as you're not real."

_OK, fine, we can discuss it later; we have more important matters at hand. What if I said I could get you out of Hogwarts?_

Even though Severus knew he was hallucinating, he momentarily considered the possibility that his mind's guest star was telling the truth. He still wasn't sure, but he was Slytherin enough to know that this might very well be his only chance to escape. "I would say I was listening."

"There's just one problem with the carrot you're dangling in front of me, Snape," Draco said, his gray eyes sharpening. "Harry Potter isn't gay."

"_Wasn't gay_," the Death Eater corrected.

Draco tilted his head slightly to the side in confusion. "Then, what are you proposing?"

"_I'm not proposing anything_," Hermione smirked, drawing her wand. "_I just needed to distract you a moment so I could retrieve one of your father's control sigils._" She flicked a single finger, and an intricate design began to glow on Draco's forehead. The Slytherin's pupils shrunk until they were practically gone, leaving only a solid gray iris. The Death Eater inspected her handiwork and grinned. "_Stay. That's a good boy_."

Hermione picked up a nearby wine glass and transformed it into a large crystal bottle with a stopper. She removed the top and inspected her handiwork. "_It will do nicely_." She placed the lidless container on the floor, stepped back, and raised her wand.

"_Accio Draco Malfoy's blood!_"

Red liquid oozed from every pore and orifice the young man possessed. It flew in threw the air in a graceful arc and landed where Hermione directed, which was into the crystal bottle on the floor. Draco swayed, his cheeks sunken and yellow. He cried out only once and then was forever silent, his burst heart seeping through his ruined chest.

When the blond man was finally dead, Hermione picked up the bottle and stoppered it without losing a single drop. She pointed her wand at the crystal container and began to chant, etching a rune onto the side of the bottle.

She held up her creation, marveling at what she had wrought. She stepped over the dead form on the floor and approached an empty space in the wall. Hermione opened the bottle and whispered, "_The purity of the blood calls forth the hidden one_."

A single drop of blood floated up from the bottle and gently sailed forward. The drop changed form as it got closer to the wall until it resembled a skeleton key. A hole opened, slightly larger than the key, and the transformed blood slowly slid home, shimmering as it forced the lock to release.

The wall vanished, revealing a tall woman with grey eyes and hair so blonde it was nearly white. She wore a diaphanous white robe that moved as if she were standing in a breeze, yet no air moved through the room.

Her voice was smooth as silk, possessing perfect pitch and tone. "Who requires access to the Vault of Knowledge?"

"_I do_," Hermione said impatiently. "_I require one of the Dark Lord's tomes_."

The woman's eyes widened. "Access to the Dark Lord's works is forbidden by Ministry decree—"

"_Save it_," the Death Eater snapped, her remaining patience gone. "_I know you care as little for the Ministry's decrees as I do_." She held up the bottle of blood. "_I offer you five extra drops, Mistress Malfoy. Guarding books is a thankless job, and I'm certain Draco never needed to keep you full_."

The founding mother of the Malfoy line licked her lips daintily, her long, elegant fangs flashing in the light. "Give me ten drops, and you may take the book with you."

Hermione nodded. "_Ten drops, and I get to leave alive with the book of my choosing._"

The vampire smiled. "Done." She dropped to her knees, tilted her head back, and opened her mouth. Hermione meted out the correct number of drops, the vampire shuddering with need.

At the ninth drop, the Death Eater leaned in and whispered in the vampire's ear. "_What would it take for me to leave alive with all of the Dark Lord's possessions that you guard?_"

The vampire sat back and blinked. "I would take nothing less than the entire bottle."

The Death Eater smiled. "_Done_."


End file.
